David Oke Belmont, Geelong; November 1998 It was a rite of passage to spend a weekend with Dad as we travelled on a McHarrys coach from Geelong to a country Victorian destination with the International Harvester Choir.
Vin Maskell Family room, Melbourne, June 2012 You don’t have to own every song you like. You don’t have to possess all the music you love.
Rick Kane Perth, April 2006 Someone asked, “Where’s the music?” This would be the cathartic moment. This would be where the pain flowed out as the love poured in.
Nick Gadd Torquay, England, August 1985 Romance was everywhere that summer. Lads from the kitchen wooed the waitresses by carrying out their water jugs. Judy, who loved the kitchen-hand, bought him an expensive knife to help him in his career. I was besotted by Scottish Clare.
Vin Maskell Point Lonsdale, New Year’s Eve party, 1976 There must have been music. It was New Year’s Eve.
Lucia Nardo Melbourne, June 1992 While it is true that in death we travel alone, wherever it is George Michael has gone, he's taken a part of me with him.
Cassandra Atkinson Dad’s shed, Richmond, New South Wales. The summer of ’97 It was only through my parents’ divorce and the breaking up of our family into smaller divided units that I realized the true nature of the song's story.
Maria Majsa 93 Edgewater Drive, Pakuranga, February 1982 It was right after the funeral that things began to happen… the lights cut out and the music drained away like water leaving a sink.
Mark Schier California, 1990 We sat on the train and plugged into our portable cassette players with those 1990s chunky headphones. I'm not sure what my wife listened to, but for me there was only one choice.
Stephen Andrew The road from Hurstbridge to St Andrews, summer, 2000 I pulled off the road and spun the wheel of my iPod. I dialled up Cornershop singing Brimful of Asha. Tenzin listened intently and then said, “Play that again, Dad.”